We can start with Timothy Belleza, assistant manager of the Oxford store, who has worked under the recently ousted Arthur T. Demoulas for almost three decades.

"We're all trying to stay strong for our CEO," he said.

"But he's not your CEO anymore," I noted.

"As far as I'm concerned, he is."

Outside the entrance, 20-year-old Jason Pawlowski joined a dozen of his co-workers who held signs in support of Arthur T. and spoke politely to the few customers who trickled in to the once-popular store.

"Arthur is part of this family," said Pawlowski, front end assistant manager. "I was planning on spending my whole career here. But if the company is run differently, I'll look elsewhere."

The Market Basket employees who are protesting the firing of their beloved leader aren't motivated by money — they're inspired by a man. They're not following union dictates, just the ones from their conscience. And while no one wants to get fired, they're willing to put their jobs on the line for the boss who always treated them as equals.

Man, it's impressive. If this saga were a movie, it would star Tom Hanks. He'd play the good Arthur, while the bad Arthur would be portrayed by, say, Alan Rickman.

This is largely a tale of two cousins: Arthur T. Demoulas, who everyone loves, and his arch-rival cousin, Arthur S. Demoulas, who recently managed to launch a coup and dethrone the good cousin. To simplify matters, Arthur S. always believed that Arthur T. was too generous with employees and profit sharing. So you can imagine which cousin has earned the loyalty of the help.

Now the employees want the good Arthur back. They've held rallies and walkouts. Eight of them have been fired by the new, tone-deaf management. Employees have planned another rally Friday at the chain's Tewksbury headquarters, the same day the company's board of directors is scheduled to meet at the Prudential Center in Boston.

On Tuesday, the workers who held signs in support of their ousted CEO declined to characterize the effort as a picket, because none of them are unionized. So what would they call it?

"I'd call it a bunch of employees banding together to support their leader," Belleza said. "There's never been a need for unions here. The strong unity we have shows we don't need a union."

In this space I've frequently criticized unions for their strong-arm tactics and threats to strike if it looks like rain. Many care nothing about merit and improving their organizations. They seem out of touch with modern economic realities while obsessing about benefits and raises.

On Tuesday, I asked the young Pawlowski, a student at Nichols College, why he's so devoted to Arthur T.

"Last year, he came right up to me and shook my hand," he recalled. "He said, 'How you doing, Jason?' He smiled at me and seemed happy to be here. And he initiated the 4 percent discount plan for customers. Our company is debt-free, and the customers love to shop here. It's like, this is our company."

Unlike many union-backed job actions, the Market Basket employee insurrection has nothing to do with power, politics or paychecks. Perhaps there's an element of enlightened self interest, as the workers know that Arthur T. has always had their backs. So now they have his. In some ways, it's as simple as that.

"Blood makes you a relative," Belleza said. "Loyalty makes you a family. This is my life. I have to fight for it."

Regardless of the outcome, the employees can be proud. And unions could learn a lesson about honor, integrity and class.